


Winter

by forallthegodsdeparted



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Revenge Era, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forallthegodsdeparted/pseuds/forallthegodsdeparted
Summary: "Wouldn't it be funny if 27-year-old Gerard called Frank to tell him to come over because his mom wasn't home?"





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are heavily fictionalized versions of real people; this is a fictional narrative not based on real events.

“Gerard?”

“Yeah mom, what’s up?”

“Hi honey, I just wanted to let you know I think I’m gonna stay at Sharon’s tonight. The snow’s coming down pretty hard up here already and I don’t want to get stuck on the turnpike drunk at three in the morning.” Well, damn. Gerard didn’t think the storm was supposed to get bad until later. “So you’re on your own.”

“Ah, alright,” he says, “That’s probably best, you shouldn’t drive if you’ve been drinking anyway.” He pauses. “Oh shit, how was the concert?” because he’s a good son.

That sets Donna off about the Springsteen concert, how she got too drunk and high with her friends, got yelled at by the older folks behind her, how they still somehow managed to find their way back to Sharon’s house. Gerard grins. His mom is rad. Almost as rad as him finally having a night to himself for the first time in _weeks_. God, he could watch a movie upstairs and eat on the couch and no one would give him shit for it, or he could like...take a really long shower and jerk off as loud as he wanted, or...or! _Or_. _Frank_ , he thinks gleefully. God, he’s seen Frank _once_ since they came off tour for the month, hasn’t touched him since that last hotel night in D.C. which was in...early November? Shit. He could invite Frank over and they could actually hang out like normal people for once in their fucking lives. He grins again, picks up a canister of basil off the counter and tosses it in the air in celebration.

“—and if you get hungry there’s lasagna in the fridge,” Donna’s saying when he comes back to. A brief pause. “Are you gonna be alright, sweetheart?” Oh, he’s gonna be so alright.

“Mom, I’m twenty-seven years old,” he reminds her, cool as a cucumber, “I can hold down the fort for a night.” A pause. “ _Seriously_ , Mom, it’s fine.” He knows what she’s worried about, but he’s half a year sober, there’s no booze in the house, and Frank will deck him if he so much as insinuates that alcohol exists.

“Of course you can,” Donna says, mollified. “Sorry, honey, you know how I worry.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard says quickly, “really though, I’m fine. Have a good rest of the night. Text me when you’re heading home in the morning, okay?”

“I will. Sleep tight, alright? Love you.”

“Love you too.” Gerard hangs up, staring around the kitchen, already decorated for Christmas, a happy bubble expanding in his chest. He reminds himself that he hasn’t even _called_ Frank yet to see if he’s free, should probably actually check with him before he like...picks up his shit and showers. His cellphone’s vanished into the ether; Gerard pokes around for a few minutes, finally unearthing it from the couch cushions, flipping it open to text Frank.

 _hey_ , he types quickly, _r u free 2nite?_ Gerard flops down on the couch and lets out a breath, preparing himself to either wait or be disappointed. It’s the second week of December, Frank could have family stuff or whatever. He gazes around the living room. It’s totally garish, like it is every year, but Gerard thinks it’s beautiful all the same. Now alongside Elena’s old dolls and trinkets are tiny figurines of mice, wreaths, garland, and, standing against the far wall, a tree decorated with lights and ornaments and an angel at the top that Gerard has always loved for how just _slightly_ creepy she is. His phone buzzes, shaking him, and his stupid heart starts pounding when he sees Frank’s name on the front screen.

 _ya, y wuts up_ , the text reads when he flips it open. Gerard maybe cheers a little. Whatever, he’s by himself. He presses “call,” and jiggles his leg over the arm of the couch while it rings.

“Yeah?” He hears the smile in Frank’s voice and his stomach flips.

“Hey,” Gerard says, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, “are you alone right now?” A long pause.

“...You about to ask what I’m wearing?”

“Shut up, that’s not what I meant. Do you want to come over tonight?”

“What, like, for dinner?”

“No, you idiot, like before the snow gets worse,” Gerard explains, badly. “I mean, do you want to come hang out and spend the night and...whatever,” he tries again, face growing pink even though no one’s watching. “My mom’s gone. She, uh, went out with some friends and I guess it’s pretty bad up where she is so she doesn’t want to drive home. So she’s staying with a friend and asked me to hold down the fort, and like we can eat if you want, I guess there’s lasagna in the fridge, the only thing is it’s definitely not vegan so if you want to eat you might want to pick up something on the w—”

“— _Gerard_ ,” Frank cuts Gerard off firmly, his muffled laughter clearly audible anyway. “So...you’re asking me to come over...because your mom’s not home?” Gerard blushes harder, feeling like a fucking middle schooler.

“I mean...yeah?”

“Gee. We’re like...grownups.” But even as Frank says it Gerard hears movement in the background.

“Are you about to get in the shower?”

“Hell yeah I am,” Frank says, “...I’ll be over in forty?” Gerard pumps his fist in the air, whooping silently.

“Careful on the roads, my mom says it’s getting icy,” he says, flipping over on the couch and cradling his phone against his ear.

“You want me to pick up some food? I can get Chinese from that one place that’ll do the stir fry vegan for me.”

“You’re the best,” Gerard beams.

“Yeah, no shit. Alright, for real now I’m gonna order some food, get my shit together, and then head out. See ya soon.”

Gerard closes his phone and tosses it back on the couch before leaping over the back, jogging through the kitchen and down the stairs to his basement room. He looks around at the sea of comic books, empty mugs, bits of charcoal and sketchbooks that used to be his floor and half-heartedly contemplates picking it up. Instead he sort of shoves everything around for a while, kicking some of it under his bed, moving some from the floor to his desk, and then gets distracted for an hour reading the liner notes to _Heroes_.

“Shit,” he mutters, realizing how late it is and that he’s probably missed the window for showering. He settles for stripping and digging a clean pair of boxers out of his drawer; it’s not like he’s not gonna get gross again. Perfect timing, because right then he hears the front door open and shut, footsteps just overhead.

“Gee!” Frank’s voice drifts down from upstairs. Gerard’s heart leaps and he shoves a last armful of shit from on top of his bed into his closet.

“Coming!” he calls back. Frank’s had a key to the Way house for years now, since he’d first joined My Chem and started crashing after local shows. Donna’s always liked to tell him that he’s “just like another son to her, only cleaner and better behaved,” to which he always smiles winningly and allows his hair to be smoothed down, the fucker. Shit. Gerard yanks on some flannel pajama pants and an old Black Flag shirt that he’s maybe only worn once or twice since he last washed it, and bolts up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“Hey,” he grins, bursting through the doorway into the hall where Frank is standing, throwing his coat over the railing of the main staircase with one hand and holding a white plastic bag full of delicious-smelling food in the other. He looks slightly windswept, face smarting from the cold, snowflakes clinging to the hair falling across his face and to his eyelashes. He’s wearing black jeans and a dark green sweatshirt under his coat, and if Frank hadn’t told him he was gonna shower Gerard would still be able to tell because he can _smell_ Frank’s stupid vegan body wash from here. It smells fucking great. Frank blinks at him, smiling really big and silly and sincerely. Gerard doesn’t move. He’s going to explode.

“Hi,” Frank finally says, voice catching a little, a bit pinker in the face than when he walked in. He takes a step toward Gerard. “It’s, uh...been a minute.”

“It has,” Gerard breathes in response, doesn’t know quite what to do, can’t really move, and Frank beams bigger and says “Oh, Jesus Christ” and flings his free arm around Gerard’s neck to pull him into a soft, open kiss and oh _fuck, yes,_ this is _exactly_ what Gerard has been missing. When Frank pulls back his eyes are brighter and something in Gerard’s chest hurts in a dull kind of way.

“You brought food,” Gerard says a little weakly, gesturing to the food Frank’s still carrying, because Gerard’s a terrible host.

“I did,” Frank says, “and I’d love to get out of the hallway and eat it.”

“Yeah, alright,” Gerard says, bringing a hand up helplessly to palm Frank’s cheek for a second before turning toward the kitchen, stupid-ass smile still plastered across his face.

“I got chicken lo mein for you,” Frank’s saying behind him, “Hope that’s okay?”

“It’s perfect. You’re my hero.” Frank rolls his eyes a little at that and hands Gerard the cartons and a pair of chopsticks, and they perch themselves at the counter to eat.

“This is way weird, being here without your mom or Mikey,” Frank says between gargantuan bites of stir-fry, “I like don’t know what to do. It’s like we’re fuckin’ fifteen or something.”

“I know, right?” Gerard agrees, hooking his ankle around Frank’s for emphasis. In his periphery he catches the corner of Frank’s mouth twitch up. “We should watch a movie. Like up here, with the TV and the couch.”

“Okay,” Frank giggles. “You know you can just come over my place any time you want and we can hang out without having to worry about, like...mom evasion.”

“Takes the fun out of it,” Gerard says, as though that settles it. They finish eating, listening to the storm outside get worse and watching snow pile up on the window sill.

“Do you want coffee?” Gerard asks while he tosses the empty cartons and bags into the trash.

“Only if you’re making it anyway,” Frank says, wandering over with his hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted downward and giving Gerard these big eyes that are probably supposed to be cute. They totally are. Gerard’s busy at the coffee maker measuring scoops into the basket when Frank’s arms are suddenly around his waist, and Frank must be on his tip-toes because he’s resting his chin on Gerard’s shoulder. Just like that Gerard feels warm all over, and breathes shakily as he tries to keep going with the coffee.

“Do you need help?” Frank murmurs, lips ghosting against Gerard’s neck.

“I, uh....” _might need more than that in a second_ , he thinks, heat pooling in his groin because holy _shit_ it’s been forever. Frank just presses himself closer, more solidly, nuzzling Gerard’s neck, and the skin he’s touching feels like it’s on fire.

“I missed you,” Frank says softly, squeezing a bit. Gerard can feel Frank’s fucking heart pounding against his back and he’s going to explode again. He closes the lid to the coffee maker and flips the switch before placing his arms over Frank’s, grabbing his hands and leaning back into his touch.

“Yeah, fuck, I missed you too,” Gerard breathes deeply, taking note of Frank’s body against his, feeling the callouses on his hands, smelling his shampoo and fucking body wash and deodorant and the laundry detergent he uses when he’s home off tour and his hair and his sweat. They stand like that while the coffee brews, swaying a little from side to side, and Frank flinches when the machine finally beeps to let them know it’s done. Gerard turns to clumsily kiss Frank’s head, lips brushing in his messy hair.

“C’mon,” he says, “Let’s go watch _Black Christmas_ on the big TV.”

Frank’s right, Gerard thinks, as they amble into the living room, it is totally weird being here alone. Actually, it’s weird being _anywhere_ alone. He thinks this might be the first time, besides in darkened hotel rooms in the middle of the night, that they aren’t fucking sneaking around, or leaving two feet between them for Jesus, or easing up on the flirting when it starts to sound less funny and more something the tabloids are gonna have a field day with. He thinks all this while watching Frank search around for a coaster before setting his mug down because he’s the perfect house guest, flop down on the old white leather couch, and tuck his feet up under himself, and Gerard knows he’s probably freezing even though it’s not actually that cold in here. Gerard can fix that.

Gerard digs around for the movie and pops it in, turns the lights off but leaves the Christmas tree on, then settles down on the far end of the couch and scoots his ass down until he’s laying across it. Frank looks at him, slurps his coffee.

“Come here,” Gerard grins, holding an arm out.

Frank glances over his shoulder then says “Oh, right,” and sets his coffee down carefully before launching himself at Gerard and landing with a loud thump (“ _Oof_ ,” groans Gerard). Frank wraps his arms around Gerard’s middle and burrows his face happily in Gerard’s chest. When he looks up at Gerard his eyes are sparkling.

“Hey,” Frank whispers.

“Hey."

They’re mostly quiet through the movie. Frank stays sprawled atop Gerard, nestled under his arm, and at some point Gerard throws the furry blanket over both of them because Frank’s somehow still like a block of ice. Frank is shockingly still, just gentle breathing and occasional snuggling against Gerard’s chest, shivering a little whenever Gerard runs his fingers through his mohawk, all one color now that tour’s over and the sides have kind of grown out. About halfway through Frank slides a hand up under Gerard’s shirt to slowly stroke his hip with his thumb, sending little shockwaves up Gerard’s spine and down to his groin and Jesus Christ, watching a movie was the best fucking idea ever.

Frank keeps at it for about twenty minutes, just tiny little touches while Gerard grows steadily hotter and tinglier and—fuck—harder beneath him, until the movie’s almost over and his dick fucking hurts with how turned on he is. Gerard doesn’t need to see Frank’s shit-eating smirk; his groin is pressed right up into Frank’s belly and Gerard _knows_ Frank knows exactly what he’s doing. The credits start rolling and slowly Frank’s hand wanders downward like it’s a fucking accident, and Gerard just barely stifles a noise that would have been totally embarrassing had it actually left his mouth, which it totally didn’t.

“Fuck, Frankie” Gerard slurs, feeling uncoordinated and disheveled. Frank beams up at him, hair a total disaster, fingers now dragging through the coarse hairs on Gerard’s lower belly. “Get up here,” he says, grabbing Frank by the ‘hawk and dragging him up to kiss him slowly, biting and sucking softly at his lips. Frank’s taking advantage of the empty house, not trying to hide his whimpers at all, grinding down on Gerard, hard dicks rubbing together through denim and flannel, sending sparks up Gerard’s spine. Frank pulls away panting, a sloppy grin plastered across his stupid perfect face. 

“Lemme suck your dick,” he says, like he can’t imagine anything he’d rather do. Gerard doesn’t need telling twice.

“Yeah, okay,” he rasps, for no reason really because Frank’s already moving, shoving one of Gerard’s legs off the couch so he can scoot down between them. Gerard watches Frank lean down to fucking rub his _face_ into Gerard’s groin, can feel Frank’s fucking _stubble_ through his thin flannel pajamas which, by the way, aren’t doing a damn thing to hide the major wood he’s popping. Frank rests his head on Gerard’s hip and just fucking toys with Gerard’s dick through his pants, sliding his hand up and down at a glacial pace, moving his thumb in tiny circles over the head where the fabric’s already soaked through with precome. Gerard groans spectacularly, thrusting up into Frank’s hand.

“Fuck,” Frank says under his breath, watching Gerard’s face twist up. In the next second he’s tugging Gee’s pants down around his thighs, letting his dick spring free, flushed and hard against his stomach. He nuzzles into the crease of Gerard’s thigh, inhaling deeply, clutching at his hips, giggling a little at Gee’s frustrated whimper when Frank doesn’t touch him right away. Frank mouths at his balls first, sucking on one and then the other, then up the side of Gerard’s dick, not even enough to get it wet, not even getting his tongue on him until he reaches the very tip, then finally, _finally_ , sliding his lips over just the head.

“ _God_ ,” Gee grits out, hands returning immediately to Frank’s hair, and Frank slides down on his cock, lips a tight ring, cheeks hollowed, reaching up to jack the base in his fist. Gerard makes a noise that’s way too high-pitched, accidentally thrusting up into Frank’s mouth, but instead of flinching away Frank grabs both his hips and takes him deeper, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over the head of his cock every time he bobs up. Frank looks up at him, all dark eyelashes and perfectly-arched eyebrows and fuck, his mouth was fucking _made_ for sucking cock, and it’s been way too long and Gee’s not gonna last at all.

Frank knows it too, and takes Gerard’s dick in his hand again, jacking him off while he slowly slides back up and—oh fucking Christ. He’s got his tongue in Gee’s slit and he’s fucking _fucking_ him with it, slow and dirty, eyes dark, hair in his face, looking depraved and totally gorgeous. In an instant Gerard’s hips tighten and his back arches and oh, _fuckfuckfuck_ , he’s gonna—

“Mother— _fuck_ , Frankie, I’m gonna,” Gerard manages, but it’s too late. His hand is still twisted in Frank’s hair when his whole body seizes up and he sees stars. And Frank’s mouth is still on him, fist pumping him through his orgasm, swallowing messily.

“Mmm?” Frank replies once he’s pulled off, flushed and somehow still managing to look at Gerard like he hung the fucking moon even as he’s got Gerard’s come dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Gerard blinks down at him.

“God, fucking—” Gerard yanks him back up, mouths pressed together clumsily as Gerard tries to get his bearings back, hands running over Frank’s arms, back, ass, and Frank’s dick is like a fucking rock against Gerard’s thigh. “Fuck,” Gerard pants, “Jesus, you’re fucking good at that.”

“Yeah? You wanna fuck about it?” Frank murmurs against Gee’s lips.

“Yeah,” Gerard breathes, still panting underneath Frank’s warm weight (Jesus, _he’s so_ small) eyes closed against the dim light from the tree. “Yeah, but not on my mom’s couch.” Frank giggles, shoving his hand up under Gerard’s shirt to tweak a nipple, making Gerard squirm under him. “ _Frankie_ —”

“Sorry,” he giggles again, running his hand back down over Gerard’s stomach to close over his soft dick and strokes him, like, fondly, and ah _fuck_ that’s way too much, too sensitive, and Gerard gasps into Frank’s mouth. “Okay, I’m done,” Frank says softly, hand still closed almost protectively over Gerard’s junk. 

“Come on,” Gerard whispers, ducking his head down to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on Frank’s throat, making his hips jerk. “Let’s go downstairs.”

Somehow they haul themselves up from the couch, fumbling around to standing, both of them, Gerard tugging his pants back up and watching Frank try hopelessly to adjust the impressive hard-on that’s raging in his jeans.

“Don’t forget to unplug the tree,” Frank says, because Gerard probably actually would burn the house down if he wasn’t there, and Gee swats his ass on his way across the living room.

“I’ll meet you down there, ‘kay?” 

Frank plods downstairs and Gerard unplugs the lights, half-runs around the house making sure the doors are locked and everything’s turned off, and pees in the upstairs bathroom as quickly as he can before heading down to his room. When he gets there Frank’s on his bed laying on his stomach, head cradled in his crossed arms and his legs bent and feet in the air, ’cause Frank’s a huge tool and knows his ass looks fucking great like that. 

“Move, fucking roll over,” Gerard’s saying, already almost-tripping onto his bed and hauling Frank onto his back, then straddling his hips, bringing his own down over what feels like solid fucking lead in Frank’s pants. Frank groans loudly and Gerard’s hand shoots down between them, grabbing clumsily at Frank’s junk to massage his hard-on through his jeans until Frank’s bucking and whimpering curses into his mouth and clutching at Gerard, sheets, pillows—anything he can find. Gerard’s totally hard again, just from the _sounds_ Frank’s making, and he removes his hand (Frank gasps either in frustration or relief) then replaces it with his own crotch so that they can dry-hump like highschoolers (and why not, Gerard’s mom’s not home), and god, this shouldn’t be making Gerard see stars but it _is_ , it fucking is.

“Dude,” Frank breathes, one hand in Gerard’s hair and one hand flung over his head resting on Gerard’s pillow, rolling his hips repeatedly to grind his dick up against Gerard’s. His eyes are unfocused and he looks as fucking gone as Gerard feels.

“I know, I fucking know,” Gerard says helplessly, sliding down to maul Frank’s neck, mouthing the delicate skin and sucking hard, feeling a little thrill when Frank squirms under him. He pauses to yank Frank's sweatshirt over his head and off then keeps going, biting and sucking across Frank’s collar bones, down his chest to his belly, sticking out his tongue and circling it around the dip of his belly button before running it down through the faint trail of hair there over the _And_ inked into the delicate skin of his hips till he reaches the dark pubes just poking out of Frank's jeans. Frank’s breaths are coming short and fast, chest heaving, and Gerard can’t quite read his expression.

“You good Frankie?” he whispers, hand hovering over Frank’s fly. Frank takes a shaky breath, reaching down to grab Gee’s other hand in his, squeezing for a second.

“I’m good,” he smiles.

“Yeah?” Gerard just watches him, fingers ghosting over the front of his jeans.

“I dunno. I just really like you?” he offers, blinking, and sort of pets through Gerard’s hair. Gerard’s chest feels funny.

“Turn over,” he grunts, and Frank breathes in sharply, flipping onto his stomach and fisting his hands in the sheets when Gerard tugs his jeans down and off. He leaves his own clothes on, for now anyway, ‘cause he knows it’s one of Frank’s _things_. “Knees,” Gerard says, even though he’s already tugging Frank’s hips up so that Frank’s leaning on his forearms, ass up and knees wide, dick heavy and dripping between his legs, and Jesus _fuck_ he looks so fucking _good_ like this, fucking _spread out_ right in front of Gerard and panting and covered in a veneer of sweat and hair sticking to his forehead and neck and Gee can’t even fucking _think_. He leans forward, presses his mouth to the small of Frankie’s back, grabs his ass cheeks and squeezes, letting his chin slide down till he’s hovering above his crack. “Gonna eat you out before I fuck you, ‘kay?” he says weakly.

Frank just presses his face into the pillow and moans, nodding in case Gerard didn’t get the message. Gerard grins and tugs with his thumbs, spreading him wide, feeling himself get harder at the way Frank’s neck and shoulders flush. “You’re so hot, Frankie,” he whispers, like he’s afraid someone’s gonna hear him.

“ _Gee_ ,” is Frank’s muffled groan into the pillow, and with that Gerard licks a wet stripe from his balls up to the top of his crack. Frank lifts his burning face up to moan “ _Oh my god_ ,” and then Gerard’s just fucking going for it, licking hard and steady over his hole, pulling him as wide as he can until the skin’s stretched tight, like it must hurt, and Frank’s making noises like he’s gonna have a fucking stroke. Gee pauses for air, rubbing slowly over his hole with two fingers, making Frank’s toes curl, and something dawns on him.

“...Did you _shave_?” Gerard says interestedly, letting one spit-slick finger slide inside him. The part of Frank’s face he can see goes bright red, again.

“I—maybe. Fuck you.” Jesus, Gerard can’t fucking—without a word he flips Frank back over and covers his body with his own, grabbing his face to bring their mouths crashing together.

“Ugh, god!” Frank protests, twisting away, “You fucking _animal_ , that was _literally_ in my ass.”

“Don’t see me complaining,” Gerard smirks crookedly, but eases off him and props himself on his elbow by Frank’s head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You shaved for me.” He runs his other hand down to Frank’s chest, tracing over his tattoos and around his nipples. Frank hisses; his dick is laying swollen against his hip, twitching with each of Gerard’s feather-light touches. He’s been hard for like, what, an hour now? Gerard actually feels bad for him.

“Uh, I’m gonna die if you don’t fuck me,” Frank grits out, yanking at his hair with the hand that’s not gripping Gerard’s arm so hard his knuckles are turning white. Gerard just laughs, petting down over his taut stomach to gently fondle his dick, his hand wet with precome cause Frank’s leaking all over the fucking place. Frank half-sobs, flinging his arm over his eyes. Gerard feels totally lame asking, but—

“Is it, like, totally lame of me to ask if we can do missionary so I can kiss you while I fuck you?” Gerard says, feeling Frank’s pulse kick through his goddamn cock. Frank laughs shakily.

“Yeah it is. You fucking suck.” Frank pulls him back down for a kiss, all thoughts of cleanliness apparently forgotten, flinging his legs around Gerard in a total jiu jitsu move to pull him back on top. “Of course now I’m gonna be disappointed if you don’t do it.”

“Hang on,” Gerard grins into his mouth before sitting up to tug off his shirt and awkwardly shuffle out of his pants, then reaches over to pull open the drawer of his bedside table. He digs around, pulls out lube and a condom, sits back to tear open the foil and roll the rubber onto his dick. Frank watches, eyes dark, cheeks flushed, cock flushed even darker. Gee grabs the bottle next, pours lube over his fingers, says, “Ready?” and when Frank nods he rubs one finger around his rim again, eventually pushing in slowly, gently, watching Frank go slack-jawed and pliant under him.

“Fuck, c’mon, go ahead,” Frank breathes, one hand still grasping at his own hair, the other fisting the sheets.

“Just gimme a minute, don’t wanna hurt you,” Gerard mutters, pulling out and adding another finger, watching Frank’s abdominal muscles shift under the softness of his belly. He adds another and Frank fucking _growls_ , bearing down on him and Gerard says “okay, okay,” and removes his fingers, reaching for the lube again to coat his cock. Once he’s wet he lines himself up, smears his head around Frank’s hole, and shit, he kind of wants to fucking do _that_  all night because it feels so fucking good but Frank’s there gasping beneath him and looking like he might actually pass out if Gee doesn’t move.

“Yeah?” Gerard says, and Frank nods frantically, biting his lower lip up as Gerard pushes—slowly—in.

“Oh, fuck, Gee,” Frank whimpers, back arching, mouth falling open in a silent moan. Gerard grunts, moving his hands to either side of Frank’s head and leaning over him until their foreheads are pressed together. Frank tilts his chin up and Gerard claims his mouth, kissing messily with teeth and bumping jaws as he pushes deeper.

When he’s got over half his dick in and Frank’s breaths are sounding labored he pulls out a bit (“Fucking _go_ ,” Frank groans) and starts fucking him for real with slow, hard thrusts, and Frank whines and wraps both legs back around Gerard to pull him closer. They’re not so much kissing anymore as they are panting into each other’s mouths; Frank’s got one hand behind Gee’s head and the other on his dick, jacking himself off in time with Gerard’s thrusts.

“Fuck, Frankie,” Gerard pants, slipping down to mouth roughly at his neck, and Jesus Christ it’s a good thing he already came tonight or he’d be losing it already, Frank’s so fucking hot and _tight_. He reaches down with one hand to grab Frank’s hip and yanks him upward, changing his angle, and Frank _moans._

“ _Gee_ ,” he chokes out between gasps, voice getting steadily higher, “Gee, oh god, oh, fuck, _Gerard_.”

Gerard can feel Frank getting close, feels his whole body tensing up and becoming slippery with sweat. Smirking, he takes a handful of Frank’s hair and _yanks_ , jerking his head backward, and that’s what does it—Frank comes with a long, guttural moan, fingers digging into Gee’s back hard enough to break skin and squeezing tight all around him, and Gerard fucks him through it, listening to his groans become pants and eventually sighs. Frank relaxes and Gerard goes to pull out, but Frank tightens his legs around Gee’s waist and growls “ _No fucking way_ ,” and Gerard keeps going, both hands fisted in Frank’s hair now and face buried in his neck.

“Come on, Gee...fuckin’ come for me...feel so fucking good like this,” Frank’s muttering, almost totally limp, running one hand damply over Gerard’s back while he lets himself be fucked into the mattress. Then _—_

“ _Oh god oh fuck—_ ” Gerard has about one second to feel his orgasm in his thighs before it hits him, and then he’s seizing up inside Frank, can feel the warm wet spurting from him and pooling around his dick, feels it in his fucking fingers and toes and ass.

It’s completely quiet save for their labored breathing. Gerard lets his arms give out, collapses onto Frank, then thinks of Frank’s lungs and rolls off him to the side. Frank’s face and chest are shiny with sweat and his hair is plastered to his face, and he’s staring up at Gerard’s bedroom ceiling looking as dazed and happy and sleepy as Gerard feels. They should do this every time it snows. It should snow every fucking day.

“OH MY GOD!” Frank literally shouts. Gerard pushes himself up to side-eye him and Frank’s already collapsed into giggles. “Sorry,” he says, “it’s just, we’re alone, I had to.” And then Gerard starts giggling too, and scoots down to lay his head on Frank’s chest, curling an arm around his waist and throwing a leg over him.

“I know,” Gerard says helpfully, “I’m a good lay.” Frank snorts and punches his arm with absolutely no commitment. Gerard pulls the condom off his softening dick, ties it, and tosses it on the floor, then uses the corner of his sheet to wipe off the come that's spattered across Frank's belly.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Frank mutters, then rolls so they’re facing each other and kisses Gerard again, slow and deep and with a lot of tongue, until they’re both dizzy and drunk with it and can’t focus their eyes.  

“You wanna sleep?” Gerard slurs, tugging blankets over them and sliding down to nestle against Frank’s tattooed chest.

“Yeah, alright.” Frank sighs deeply and pulls Gerard closer with his arms and legs, tangling them together til they’re touching with as much of their bodies as humanly possible. Gee’s sort of buried in Frank’s armpit, breathing sweat and stink and cheap-ass CVS-brand deodorant and he fucking loves it.

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. Frank rakes his fingers through Gerard’s hair. 

“Yeah? You smell pretty gross yourself.” Gerard pinches his side and Frank giggles, then kisses Gerard’s forehead. “’Night, Gee.”

“’Night, Frankie,” Gerard whispers, eyes slipping closed, feeling softer and warmer than he has in weeks. Frank inhales like he’s about to say something else, but he just gets still and lets it back out, and Gerard feels his lips brushing in his hair again before he’s drifting off to the steady thudding of Frank’s heartbeat and the low whistling of the wind outside.

*

When Gerard wakes up Frank’s spooning him from behind and his heart’s literally racing just from being curled up in Frank’s arms, also he can’t fucking tell how long they’ve slept or what time it is because the snow on the ground outside is piled up over his windows and all he can see is a faint greyish-blue glow, also he’s hard, like, _majorly_ hard.

“Mmmfgh,” he stretches, flexing his toes and reaching over to the bedside table to grab his phone. 11:38. Still fucking early. And two missed calls from his mom, shit.

Frank stirs behind him as he flips open his phone and checks his voicemail—a message from Donna saying she’s waiting til the afternoon to leave, to give them a chance to plow the roads. Gerard wiggles around to kiss Frank awake, smiling against his stubble, hands roaming everywhere while Frank’s eyes blink sleepily open.

They get each other off with just their hands: slow, gentle tugs and sweet kisses, hands fisted in hair, blankets shielding them against the chilly basement air. Gerard opens his eyes just in time to see Frank’s slack-jawed orgasm face, mouth hanging open and brow all scrunched up. He grins then immediately whimpers when Frank’s hand speeds up on his dick, coming a minute later with a drawn-out groan.

“Good morning,” Frank smiles sleepily, wiping his hand on Gee’s pillowcase.

“Asshole,” Gerard says, not even trying to pretend he really means it. “’m gonna go make coffee.”

He tries anyway; it takes a few trial-and-error runs of almost getting out of bed, Frank pulling him back down by an arm or leg, and making out for five minutes before he actually makes it to the stairs, grabbing his pajama pants and a relatively unstained sweatshirt off the floor along the way.

He’s upstairs making the coffee and Frank appears behind him a moment later, wearing Gerard’s sweatpants and one of Gerard’s hoodies. Frank hauls himself up onto the counter next to the window and swings his legs happily as he watches Gee. While the coffee’s brewing Gerard pads over to stand between his legs and wraps his arms around Frank, holding him tight. Frank hunches to bury his face in Gerard’s filthy hair and squeezes back.

“Dude, we’re gonna have to dig my car out,” Frank says, voice muffled.

“I know,” Gerard groans into his chest. He grins, sliding a hand down and up under Frank’s—his—hoodie. “Unless you just wanna stay until the snow melts—”

“Gee!” Frank laughs, grabbing both Gerard’s hands and holding them firmly in his lap. “Not on your mom’s kitchen counter.”

They eventually do (after coffee) manage to get themselves outside to the driveway, snow completely blanketing the yard and pavement and Frank’s car, although the road’s long been cleared. It takes them a few hours to clear the driveway and unearth Frank’s car (Frank only tackles Gee into the snow once, glancing around quickly before pressing their mouths together, hot and wet, despite Gerard’s nervous spluttering). Just as they’re finishing Donna’s car pulls in and they both wave, Frank beaming and Gerard suddenly feeling like he’s gonna puke.

“It’s fine,” Frank says under his breath, still smiling while Donna’s turning the car off and grabbing her things.

“I _am_ fine.”

“You look like you’re gonna puke, man, just chill.” The car door opens, cutting off their hurried exchange.

“ _Frankie!_ ” Donna exclaims, hurrying over in last night’s heels to tug him into a one-armed hug and plant a firm kiss on his cheek, because apparently Gerard’s chopped liver. “You look so skinny! Are you eating enough? How is your mom doing, sweetheart?”

“Good to see you, Mrs. Way,” Frank chirps, hugging her back. God, Gerard wishes they’d showered when they woke up this morning. “My mom’s good, busy with work and stuff like usual. I’ll tell her you say hi.”

“Would you?” Donna beams, rumpling his hair under the hood of his parka. “Such a good boy.”

“Frank came to hang out last night after you called,” Gerard pipes up, a stupid need to explain himself taking over. “But then the snow got real bad so he just crashed here.”

“Yeah, I was just on my way out,” Frank says, gesturing to his old Ford.

“Well, I’m glad I got to see you before you go, then,” Donna says, turning to head inside. “I hope Gerard was a good host. Thank you for keeping my son company.” She looks pointedly at Gee like she wants to make sure he knows how lucky he is to have Frank and, yeah, Gerard thinks he knows. They stand there sort of awkwardly, looking up into the grey sky in silence until they hear the garage door shut behind her.

“See?” Frank cracks a smile, nudging at Gerard’s boot with his own, “She’s glad I came over to keep you company.”

“I guess you could call it that,” Gerard mutters, still glancing anxiously at the windows even though they’re right in front of the garage and it would be pretty hard for his mom to see them if she wasn’t trying to.

“Hey. I’m glad I did too,” Frank says sincerely, looking right at him. He lifts his hand gently, just barely brushes his knuckles against Gerard’s jaw. Gerard stares back and his heart stutters again. Frank’s hair and coat and black jeans are so dark against the whiteness of the snow, but his eyes are bright, just like always. Gerard shoves his hands into his pockets before he does something stupid like grab Frank’s face and kiss him right out here in the middle of his fucking neighborhood.

“Alright,” Frank says, blinking and breaking eye contact. “Alright, I’m gonna go now.” He doesn’t move toward his car.

“Let’s hang out again before Christmas and shit, ok?” Gerard says, still not trusting himself to get closer to Frank and definitely not to touch him.

“Totally.” Frank grins lopsidedly, lip ring glinting in the emerging sun. “Call me next time your mom’s gone.” He shoulders Gerard gently as he walks by him, and Gerard bumps him clumsily back.

“Drive safe, ok?” Gee says over his shoulder.

“Word,” Frank says, climbing into his car. Gerard doesn’t watch him turn the ignition and pull out of the driveway, but he does pull out his cellphone and type a hurried _txt me when ur home_ before shuffling back inside before his mom starts wondering what he’s doing out here. As he’s taking his coat off he tugs his sweatshirt up over his nose, because he still smells like Frank, and that makes him feel warm and jittery and giddy all over, and he tells himself he’s being totally ridiculous.

 


End file.
